She shook her head. ‘The pathologist’s still trying to find out what it was. There were only very faint residual traces of heroin in the body, so it looks as though the victim really had been trying to kick the habit. Apparently, cause of death was myocardial infarction, heart attack, provoked by a very toxic poison, but one that’s so uncommon that it may take all day or even several days to identify. In the meantime, though, what’s clear is that the victim was poisoned so, unless she took it deliberately, that means murder. What we have to do now is to work out who did it.’
I nodded in agreement. ‘I spent four hours last night reading the manuscript of Alice Graceland’s autobiography. This raised a number of points. Let me tell you what I found.’
It took me a quarter of an hour to run through what I’d readovernight and heard from Alice and from Dirk Foster this morning. Both officers listened intently and took notes. When I finally reached the end of my account, Giulia reached into her pocket and handed me the cards Alice had distributed to the guests at the beginning of last night’s murder mystery.
‘Scarpa and I’ve been able to translate them more or less, but I’d like you to take a look.’
I glanced through them and what I saw perfectly matched what I’d read in the manuscript. Alice had simply translated the sins of the modern-day guests onto their Renaissance personae. Jack Sloane was a rapist, Desmond Norman a lecher, who had sought to take advantage of a young woman. Dirk Foster was a sex cheat and Carlos Rodriguez an offensive liar. I hadn’t read about Freddie Baker in the manuscript yet, but seeing as he featured in the chapter ‘Falsehoods and Fabrications’, it seemed likely he would also turn out to be a liar. Maggie McBride was portrayed as a materialistic slut and – particularly of interest in this investigation – maybe even a poisoner. Only the sins of Alastair Groves, Alice’s former agent, were unspecified. The words on his card were similar to what I’d read in her book:You know what you did. What, I wondered, had he done? Somehow, by refusing to specify what he’d done, this made it even worse.
I handed the cards back to Giulia and confirmed that they matched the contents of the manuscript. She took them from me, looked back down at her notebook, and summed up.
‘Unless I’ve left somebody out, it looks as though the main suspects are Norman, Sloane, Foster, Groves, Rodriguez, McBride and probably Baker. That makes seven possibles.’ She looked up at me. ‘Right so far?’
This echoed my conclusions. ‘Yes indeed, all of whom stood to face considerable embarrassment, and some possibly even complete humiliation and disgrace – or even prosecution – if thebook were to get published as it is. Of course, they only had sight of the book after the murder had taken place, but the cards are quite unequivocal, so I think we have to assume that the killer is most probably the one with the guiltiest conscience, the one with the most to lose.’
‘I agree, and, from what you’ve told us, Sloane could be facing a charge of rape, while Norman could be accused of a lesser, but still unpalatable, charge relating to his attempt to obtain sexual favours. Rodriguez could find himself being investigated in relation to the death at his party thirty years ago, although you and I both know that the evidence of a witness who admits to having taken cocaine would be trashed by any good defence lawyer. McBride faces humiliation if she really was sleeping around, looking for a billionaire, and if the poisoning comment on her card is correct, she could even be looking at a charge of murdering her husband. Foster more likely faces embarrassment or humiliation, and maybe Baker too, rather than anything more serious, but there has to be a question mark hanging over Groves, her former agent, until we find out exactly what he did – if anything. What do you think Alice Graceland meant when she wrote, “You know what you did”?’
I shrugged. ‘I didn’t have time to ask Alice when I was speaking to her just before you arrived. I must admit that I’m looking forward to hearing what she says about Groves and what he has to say for himself.’
The sergeant added a query of his own. ‘What about other people here on the island? What about the wives and boyfriends of the main suspects, the staff here, the actors, or maybe even the owner herself? I wouldn’t rule her out. At the moment, we’re assuming the victim was murdered by mistake while the real target was Alice Graceland, but what if it’s a clever double bluff,and the murder was committed by the owner, with or without the collaboration of her PA?’
I’d been thinking along these lines myself. ‘It’s a possibility, Sergeant, but I’m at a loss to know what motive Miss Graceland might have had for murdering the woman for whom she appears to have had considerable affection. But, you’re right, we need to consider her, and I suppose we also need to bear in mind the staff members and actors just in case, along with the companions of the main suspects. Again, I can’t see anything that links any of them with the murder, but who knows?’
The inspector closed her notebook with a snap and looked up. ‘We need to start by interviewing the owner, followed by the principal suspects. Dan, if you’re still available, will you help with interpreting, please?’ She turned to the sergeant. ‘Scarpa, find us a quiet room where we can conduct our interviews, and make sure everybody’s up and available. We’ll start with Alice Graceland.’
19
SUNDAY MORNING
The inspector, the sergeant, and I installed ourselves in the dining room on one side of the long table, with Oscar slumped on the floor at my feet. We had barely taken our places when there was a knock on the door and a constable ushered Alice inside. The inspector did the talking while I translated what she said, and what Alice said in response. Giulia started gently.
‘You have a beautiful house, Miss Graceland. You’ve managed to convert what was a very run-down set of buildings into a comfortable, modern home without losing the authentic feel of the place. How long have you been living here?’
Alice looked weary but she replied readily enough. ‘I bought the island two years ago, and the building work was finally finished just before Christmas. I’ve been here since then.’
‘Writing your autobiography?’
‘That’s correct.’
‘Mr Armstrong here has been telling me how the contents of the book and the cards you prepared for your murder mystery would appear to reveal that some of your guests have been carrying deep, dark secrets. I understand from him that yourintention in inviting these people here was in the hope of receiving an apology from those who’ve behaved badly towards you. Is that correct?’
‘Yes.’ Alice’s voice was expressionless, and I saw Oscar get up and trot around the table to position himself alongside her.
The inspector continued. ‘What sort of apology were you expecting to get from the victim, Lucy O’Connell? What had she done to you?’
‘Nothing at all. She was a friend, a good friend.’ Alice was sounding more forceful now.
‘So you’re sorry she’s dead?’
‘I’m not just sorry, I’m broken-hearted.’ Alice’s voice faltered for a moment and tears appeared in her eyes once more. ‘If you’re asking me whether I had anything to do with her death, the answer is no, in the no uncertain terms. Like I say, she was a very close friend, and her death is a tragic loss.’
The inspector gave her a few moments to compose herself. ‘I’m sorry I have to ask you these difficult questions, but I’m sure you’re as keen as I am to get to the bottom of what happened. I have a number of questions for you about some of your guests. In particular?—’
Before I could even start translating, the door was suddenly thrown open and one of the uniformed officers from last night appeared, looking flustered. The inspector shot him an exasperated glance.
‘Yes, Piave, what is it?’
‘I’m sorry to interrupt, ma’am, but you need to see this.’
